The Girls and the Dream Princes
by UnboundCreations
Summary: 10 ordinary girls suddenly find that everything they ever dreamed of was a part of a character, who suddenly steps out of the Big Screen to be a part of their lives
1. Prologue

_The Girls and the Dream Princes_ follows 10 different, ordinary girls and how their lives suddenly changes when a character from a movie/TV-show suddenly shows up.

You will be reading 10 different storylines, written by 10 different authors, and we hope that you will love these stories as much as we do :)

**Chapters published (in order)**

Suri Harrods "Intruder with Tea" (written by theHowlingWolf)

Lucy Williams "It's Like a Dream" (written by laurenmcquilty)

Rebecca Morgan "Defying Physics" (written by tygermine)

Blake Atteberry "Camp Olympus" (written by narniaXisXhome)


	2. Suri Harrods: Intruder with Tea

Suri Harrods was a sight, with her styled, brown hair, expensive wardrobe, and neutral make-up; she was just that, a sight. It wasn't uncommon for her, despite the sun, to be seen in a large pair of sunglasses, looking as if she was a superstar or some rich businessman's wife. She exhibited the qualities of both; especially if you were to take in the way that she always ignored the staring eyes of out-of-towners and never looked in the same direction as a camera's flash. To say that in some ways, to those out–of-towners, she was famous was just a small embellishment. Only those used to seeing her, the real New Yorkers, knew that she was nothing of the sort.

Her story was commonly unique. The story of her parents was the same. Her father; quite wealthy, but also very depressed after his wife died, leaving him to take care of his daughter alone. His only happiness in life was to spoil his daughter with fancy clothes and money, and give her everything she wanted. While he, himself, took up drinking to compensate the other pieces of him that was left broken by the departure of his wife.  
Two years ago, Suri had broken away from him, not too long after she turned eighteen. That was when she moved from Washington DC, where she had been born, to New York and started to study to become a professional photographer. The only traces of her old life as a spoiled little girl were her clothes.  
Now it was late September. The leaves in Central Park were falling down in a colorful rain as she walked through the park, heading for the gallery on East 86th Street to do some research. Despite being in a bit of a hurry, she couldn't help hesitating; she took a brief pause, pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of the leaves falling. If she would've had her larger camera with her she could have stayed for a couple of hours, just snapping photos of the leaves and the people rushing buy, leaving only blurry shadows.  
Suri loved how shots like these capture the true essence of life. Shots where nature was calm and the people in a hurry, rushing by, finding their way back to the modern world and ignoring the beauty around them. That was the true depiction of human nature.

With a smile she put her phone back in her white _Prada_ bag, before continuing her walk across the park. She never noticed the man, with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his brown suit, hiding behind one of the bare trees. He didn't move, he could just as well have been one of the trees or a painted statue, but he wasn't. He was so much more than that.  
His dark eyes followed her every move, until her shape disappeared in a crowd of people, he turned away, his brown shape disappearing among the red, orange and yellow leaves falling down in an endless rain. No one seemed to notice.

Suri pulled off her jacket and put the sunglasses back in the bag as she closed the door behind her. She had spent the whole day at _Neue Gallerie_, talking to different artists and photographers, interviews that she would be using in her upcoming project. It was hard work but she still loved it.

What she didn't love was to come home and feel completely alone. Two weeks ago she broke up with her boyfriend, Nathaniel, whom she had been dating since her first month in New York. He had wanted them to get together, get married, have kids and live in the country.

But Suri just couldn't do that. Not yet, anyway. She wanted to finish school, get a job and earn some money before she could even think about having a family. Nathaniel had called her a carrier-seeking woman, while she had called him a dreamer without logic, and they had realized that they probably shouldn't stay together any longer.

They separated as friends, but not great friends. Suri had a distinct feeling that they would not meet over a cup of coffee in the next couple of months, anyway. With a shake of her head she turned the lights on in the room and looked at herself in the mirror. It was a habit she'd had since she was a kid; always check your appearance before walking into a house, even though that house might be your own.

She was quite satisfied with her looks today; her brown hair falling in thick curls onto her shoulders, her make-up light and neutral, a black suit and skirt over a white shirt, giving her a professional look. Her reflection smiled and nodded approvingly.

A sound from the kitchen made her freeze in her movements and her heart seemed to have forgotten how to beat its regular rhythm. Wasn't she alone? She had the only key to the apartment, how could someone have gotten inside? The lock had been fine, for God's sake!

She looked around for something useful, some kind of weapon. The only thing that she could use was her old umbrella. Well, better make use of it, she thought and grabbed it, slowly walking closer to the doorway leading into the kitchen. After taking a deep breath, she burst in, the umbrella raised.

The man in the brown coat turned around, staring at her in surprise with one of her cups in hand. From the smell she guessed that it was filled with tea.

"Oh, hello", he said with an unmistakable British accent. She just stared at him. Dear God, he was hot! Skinny and tall with brown, messy hair, matched with a brown, striped suit and over that a long, lighter brown coat. And then there were those dark eyes, those almost black eyes, giving you the feeling of drowning and that smirk that played on his thin lips.

"Hi", she said, slowly lowering the umbrella.

"Sorry 'bout breaking in like this", he said, taking a sip of the tea. "Just had to get a cup of decent tea. It's basically impossible to find here in New York, you know."

"My ex used to say that too, that's why he brought all of those packages here", Suri said, nodding at the boxes of _Lipton Tea_ on the bench. She had considered throwing those out, but she hadn't managed yet.

"Oh", he said. "I see, sorry to bring that up."

Suri just shrugged.

"You can take those boxes with you, if you want", she said, leaning the umbrella against the wall. That was when she spotted the magazine in the trash-can, one of Nathaniel's old magazines that she had thrown away. With a frown she reached over and took it up, staring at the man on the front-page.

"Mr. Tennant?" she said after a while, looking up at the man drinking his tea.

"Sorry, what?"

"You are Mr. David Tennant, aren't you?" Suri continued. "The Scottish actor?"

The man just looked even more confused and she realized that he truly had no idea what she was talking about. That David Tennant was not him, but it was still him on the cover. Trembling, she placed the magazine on the table, pushing it over to his side. He froze in his movements when he saw it.

"If you aren't Mr. Tennant", she said, her voice barely a whisper, "are you… are you… the actual _Doctor_?"

He stood there in silence, staring at the magazine before he nodded, looking utterly surprised that she knew his name.

"Yes. I am the Doctor."


	3. Lucy Williams: It's Like a Dream

The rain poured down, hitting the glass windows of the grey bricked house. The perfect weather to stay inside and watch TV. Of course Lucy Williams knew she should be writing her essay for her English class, however it was 8:30 pm and it was time for her favourite show, 90201. Another chance to see her favourite character Liam Court.

Lucy snuggled up on the lounge, her eyes transfixed on her show, lighting up when she saw Liam on the screen, dressed in jeans, tee shirt with a checked shirt on top. Lucy smiled whilst watching Liam playing around with another character, Ivy. _"I love this girl" _Liam tells Teddy with a cheeky smirk on his face. Lucy sighed once more, her eyes transfixed Liam. She had a few guy friends but none were like Liam. His gorgeous blue eyes, cheeky smile and witty personality, how she wished he was real. She giggled once more as Liam and his friends attended a Halloween party. She smirked as Liam became frustrated because everyone thought he was wearing a costume. _"No, it's not a costume" _she heard him groan as Lucy rested her head against the armrest.

"Oh, Liam, I wish I knew you" she sighed.

The rain lasted for the rest of the night as Lucy prepared herself for bed. Her thoughts still on Liam, as she slipped into her light pale purple boxer shorts and singlet top. She tied her hair back into a neat ponytail before climbing into her warm, comfy bed, listening to the rain falling down outside her window and it wasn't long until she was fast asleep.

_He looked down at the beautiful young girl before him, placing one hand on her face, running a hand through her long, curly brown hair, "You're an amazing girl, I'm so glad I met you" he told her seeing her smile, letting out a small laugh. "I never thought in a million years would you choose a girl like me" she pointed out as the young man laughed, placing one hand on the side of her face. "You're exactly the type of girl I like" he told her seeing her blush, "Fun, loving, caring and adventurous" he went on as she blushed even more, wrapping her arms around his neck. "And you're everything I want. The adventure is only starting," she assured him as he smirked before she felt his beautiful lips against hers in a soft romantic kiss._

There was only a light drizzle as the alarm clock went off the following morning and Lucy slowly turned over to shut it off. A smirk across her face as she thought about her dream last night, her dream about Liam, how she couldn't stop staring at him to their kiss together. It was perfect, she couldn't stop smiling to herself, nothing could ruin her thoughts except for…

"Lucy! Breakfast! You'll be late for college!" called her mother from downstairs. Lucy rolled her eyes in annoyance, oh how she wished she could skip college for the day, do her college work at home and watch 90210 episodes on her computer. However, she knew this couldn't happen and slowly climbed out of her bed, heading towards the bathroom to prepare herself for another long day of college work.

_**30 minutes later…**_

The rain had finally eased up as Lucy left her house at around 9:00 that morning, so she decided she'll enjoy the sun and walk to college. It was only a few blocks and her first class wasn't till 9:45 so she would take the time to enjoy the walk and allow her dream to come back to her. She was listening to one of her favourite songs on her mp3 player _"Good Girls Go Bad". _It reminded her of herself and wanting to be the good girl who goes for the bad guy. In her case it would be Liam, however, she knew that was never ever going to happen.

Lucy turned another corner, three more blocks until the college when she saw something unusual; something she knew couldn't be there. A few meters ahead of her, looking around with a confused look on his face. Lucy couldn't believe her eyes. "It can't be" Lucy whispered to herself she inched closer, it appeared that her eyes weren't playing tricks on her.

"Excuse me?" she asked softly before she saw the young man turned around and Lucy had come face to face with the one man she never expected to see. His gorgeous blue eyes looked down at her and Lucy was lost for words. "I know you" she admitted to him.


	4. Rebecca Morgan: Defying Physics

"We're out of Cheetos."

Rebecca Morgan rolled her eyes and sighed. Her sister Lucy said it in a tone usually reserved for obituaries.

"Cheetos? Okay, I'll stop and get some on my way home," Beck said, maneuvering her car through late afternoon traffic.

"While you're there, we need mayo, ice cream, bread, Kap'n Krunch, and vodka. Lots of vodka-"

Beck sighed again. Since Lucy had moved in with her, her grocery bill had exploded. Not that Beck could blame her little sister. Coming home to find one's husband bare assed on the dining room table taking it from the landscaper can really put a dampener on ones week. The divorce that followed put a dampener on her year. So Lucy had moved onto Beck's couch and has not moved for the past three months. Sure there's the whole sisterly love thing, but Beck has had enough. Lucy has got to go. One way or another.

"-and then we can make popcorn and watch the CW."

"What? Uh, yeah. Sure." Beck nodded and closed her phone. As she got closer to her neighbourhood, the traffic thinned out.

She turned into the nearby supermarket parking lot, parked near the entrance and locked her car. She smiled as she looked at the long, elegant lines of her black Aston Martin Vanquish. It had been her dream car for as long as she could remember and with her recent promotion to senior partner at her firm, she could finally afford it. With a happy sigh, she turned and walked into the supermarket, grabbing a trolley by the door and pushing it into the air conditioned shop.

Beck was, despite her curvy hourglass figure, a very careful shopper. She would spend hours reading the ingredient labels on items, avoided the pasta aisle, only bought fresh fruit and vegetables and balanced it out with a few bottles of good wine. With Lucy in residence, Beck's shopping list now includes tins of whipped cream, bags of Cheetos, tubs of Ben and Jerry's, Pop Tarts and every other conceivable sugar laden product out there.

She pushed her trolley down one aisle and up the next, stopping to decide if she really wanted raisins or should she get jelly beans instead. Her mind wandered as she strolled through the shop, filling her cart. What was her sister going to do with herself now? Was her client really innocent of the fraud charge? Did she remember to make the appointment with her salon for the charity auction that weekend?

She paid for the trolley full of food and headed back to the car, filling the small trunk with packets before climbing in and gunning the engine the last few blocks to her apartment.

Parking in the underground parking, she staggered under the weight of the bags and headed towards the elevator. Beck lived on the tenth floor of a renovated factory. She took the elevator to her floor and plodded down the hallway to her front door. Lucy must have been waiting for her as the door swung open just as she pulled her keys out.

"Oh thank god!" Lucy said, grabbing half of the bags and racing into the kitchen, only to dump the bags on the counter and begin rifling through the contents. She pulled out a bottle of vodka and a packet of Cheetos before heading back to the couch, settling in on the over stuffed cushions, already sporting a permanent dent from her ass. "My show is just about to start and I can't watch it without provisions."

"Which show is it?" Beck asked, packing away the rest of the groceries in the various cupboards and fridge.

Lucy scoffed. "Only the coolest show ever. Brothers who hunt ghosts."

"Sounds stupid," Beck said, rearranging her wine rack.

"So's your face," Lucy called back and turned up the volume on the TV, Black Sabbath drowning out her munching.

Beck opened a bottle of Pinot Noir, poured a really large glass and kicked off her heels to settle onto the armchair next to Lucy.

"Salt rounds? Seriously?" Beck mocked, watching the brothers on the TV shoot through the unhappy ghosts. She had to admit that the older brother was pretty handsome. But her mind just couldn't accept the fact that they could get away with all the misdemeanors they committed. "They're leaving fingerprints everywhere! How have they not been arrested yet?"

"Shut up!" Lucy hissed at her.

"Oh come on! You really need to hear the exposition? That's the bad guy, they're going probably ride right into…yup, there they go," she said as the car on the TV barreled into the old house. "This is so predictable. Like those CSI shows you like."

"At least I like normal shows. Who watches Dr Who these days?" Lucy pointed out.

"Dr Who is cool," Beck sipped at her wine and found the glass much emptier than she expected. She got up and poured another glass.

"He wears a bow tie!" Lucy shot back.

"Bow ties are cool," Beck argued.

"Only the edible kind. Now shut up, I'm trying to hear this."

Beck sank back down onto the armchair and watched a man in a trench coat invade the older brother's personal space.

"Did you turn over to Queer as Folk?" Beck asked.

"No. Shut up!" Lucy threw a pillow at her. "Those two, they're soul mates."

Beck huffed, but kept quiet. The show came to an end with the brothers driving off into the mid west American horizon and Beck decided it was her cue to head to bed. She had a list of meetings and a deposition the next day.

"Right, I'm going to bed." She dropped a kiss on her sister's forehead and shuffled to her room where she peeled off her black Donna Karen shift dress and crawled under the covers naked. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.

Beck was up at 5am the next morning, trying to dredge up the enthusiasm required to use the treadmill she had bought a few months ago. She rolled out of bed, threw on her fluffy terry cloth robe and shuffled into the kitchen where she turned on the coffee machine and grabbed an apple out of the fridge.

Munching on the apple, she turned on the TV and tuned into CNN. She eyed the treadmill wearily before rolling her eyes, and headed back to her bedroom to throw on some sweats and her trainers. Five minutes later she was on the treadmill, puffing through a mild jog.

"I really need to give up the smoking," she muttered to herself, pushing down the urge to throw up. An image of her dress for the charity auction flitted through her mind. No way in hell was she going if she didn't look less than awesome. She knuckled down and picked up the pace for the rest of the headlines.

She climbed off fifteen minutes later on rubbery legs. With a mug full of Jamaican coffee, she headed into the shower.

Half an hour later, she was out the door and headed towards the office. Traffic was quiet that early in the morning, so she gunned it between lights, soaking up the roar of her V8 engine. The upcoming set of traffic lights were green and she pushed the car, sure she was going to beat it. As she crossed the clear intersection, her car crashed into something solid.

The world went black.

Beck opened her eyes to the saddest sight in the world. Her beautiful Aston Martin Vanquish was crumpled into the body of another car.

A black car.

She shifted in her seat, checking all her limbs. Nothing was broken.

She released her seat belt and climbed out of the car, her blood pressure spiking when she took in the total amount of damage.

The car she had hit was an old model, probably early 70's. A man stood to the side of the wreckage, shaking his head.

"Hey!" Beck stomped towards him. "That was a red light! You can't go jumping lights at 7am! Look what you've done to my car!" She shouted, waving her arms.

"Hey, I wasn't the one speeding. Besides, the lights were green for me." He looked at the mess of mangled steel and carbon fibre. "Nice car," he huffed.

"Oh, fuck you!" Beck snapped, pulling out her cellphone and calling the AAA.

The tow truck arrived a few minutes later. A balding, scrawny, rat faced man climbed out of the truck and whistled as he surveyed the collision. Snapping his gum, he approached her.

"Lady, what the hell did you hit?" he drawled.

"Can't you see? That big lump of steel." She waved her hand at the black car.

"Uh, yeah, ok." The man said unsteadily. "I'll just, uh, hook her up. Here's my card. I'll call your insurance with the estimate.

His card read "Bubbah's Auto Body Repairs" She handed over her own business card.

"Call me with the details." She emptied her car of anything personal before hailing a cab.

"Hey," the man said, coming to stand in front of her, "Are you on any medication?"

"What? Why?" She asked, clutching her back against her chest.

"Well, you're talking to yourself." He said.

"No, I'm talking to Bubbah, the tow truck guy." She pointed to where Bubbah was disentangling her car from the wreck and hooking it up to his truck.

The man looked over and shook his head. "I don't see a thing,"

"You're obviously concussed and became blind. There's a huge tow truck right there."

"No, there isn't." he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Hey Bobby. You got a friend in…" he pulled the phone from his cheek and looked at her. "Where are we?" he asked her.

"Boston," she snapped.

"Boston?" he asked into the phone. He nodded a few times, said thanks and hung up. "A tow truck will be here in a few minutes," he said.

"Yeah, ok, whatever." She kept signaling for a taxi. None were stopping for her. She checked her watch. Oh fuck, she was so late. She turned right and began walking down the sidewalk towards her office block. The man followed her. She walked faster. He sped up. She stopped and turned.

"Follow me another step and I'll mace you." She threatened.

"Ok. Just one question. Then I'll go."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Why were you able to see something that wasn't there, but crashed into my car that was there?" He asked, hands in his jean pockets.

"Hey, you jumped a red light. The accident is your fault. " She poked him in the chest.

"No, you jumped the light. The intersection was clear. You came out of nowhere." He said. "But that's not the point. You're going to just leave your car there?"

She rolled her eyes. "Bubbah, the tow truck driver is taking care of it. Look, there he goes," she pointed as Bubbah drove past, her car hooked up at the back.

"You need your eyes tested. That was a Volvo that drove past."

Beck stopped and stared at him. "I can't tell if you're accusing me of lying or being insane."

He shrugged. "I'd go with the latter."

Beck screamed through her teeth, turned around and kept going towards her office.

"Hey, hey!" he shouted, running to catch up with her. "Look, I'm sorry, but something is not right here."

"That would be your driving." She snapped.

"Touché." He smiled.

"Look, just, leave me alone, ok? I'm running late." She raced off as fast as her Manolo Bhaliks could carry her. The summer heat was already beginning to bake the city and she felt the sweat pool on her lower back beneath the yellow silk shift dress.

A few blocks later, she arrived at her office. She raced through reception and tapped her foot impatiently in the elevator. It pinged open quietly at her floor and she raced to her office. Deliah, her personal assistant, scrambled out from behind her desk when she saw Beck approach her office.

"Ms Morgan, the senior partners have been asking for you," she said, pencils stuck out randomly from her fire red beehive.

"Why didn't you phone me?" Beck asked, stepping into her office and dumping her bag on the couch, before grabbing a Snapple from her private office minifridge.

"I…I did. You didn't answer," Deliah pointed out.

"But I have my phone right – " she reached into her bag "-here." Her phone wasn't there. "Fuck!" she spat. "I had an accident with my car, call this guy," she handed over Bubbah's card. "And make sure my car is going to be ok and see if my phone is lying in the car somewhere."

She opened her Snapple, took a few sips and turned on her computer, too tense to enjoy her ergonomic chair. Deliah disappeared.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on her door. She looked up.

"You!"

The man with the black car and terrible driving skills stood against her door.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

He waved a familiar looking phone at her. She jumped up for her desk and grabbed the phone from his hand.

"Thanks," she said. "You followed me?"

"You left your phone on the car seat. Thought I'd drop it off."

"But how did you…?"

"I called the number listed as office and got the address." He smiled.

"Oh, well, thanks uh…"

"Dean," he said.

"Dean. Thanks. I'll arrange a cab for you to get back to well, wherever you were going." She picked up her phone and dialed a number. "Deliah, please come in here."

A few seconds later, Deliah appeared in the doorway. "Yes?" she asked.

"I need you to arrange a cab for this gentleman,"

Deliah looked around, puzzled. "Uh, what gentleman?" she asked.

"The guy right behind you," Beck pointed at Dean.

Deliah turned around and turned back to Beck. "Uh, Rebecca, are you feeling ok? That accident – you didn't get a concussion, did you?"

"No. I mean, I blacked out for a second, but no. I'm fine."

Deliah raised an eyebrow. "You're hallucinating sweetie. You're seeing men that aren't there. You know what that means, it means that you –"

"Deliah," Beck warned.

"- need to get laid."

Beck groaned. "Why haven't I fired you yet?" she asked.

"Because without me, you'll crash and burn." Deliah smiled. "Now, have a lie down, I'll reschedule your meetings." With that, she disappeared, closing the door behind her.

"You're a ghost!" she said pointing an accusing finger at him.

He took two steps towards her and hugged her tight against his chest. She could hear his heart thumping beneath the dark blue t-shirt.

"Are you getting cold? Did I walk right through you?" he asked.

She shook her head. She was in fact, getting very warm.

"So, no, I'm not a ghost." He said and took a step back, releasing her. Beck realized she had stopped breathing and took a deep breath.

"Ok, then what is this? I've slipped into a schizophrenic state and you're one of the pieces of my imagination?" she hugged herself at the thought.

"Well done imagination," he smirked. Beck rolled her eyes at him. "So, do you want to tell me why your office is a condemned building?"

"This is not a condemned building. It's my office. See? My desk? My couch? My window?" she pointed to each item.

"I just see a gutted, rotting building." He looked around. "Something isn't right. I need to call Cas."

"Cas?" Beck asked, feeling as though she had heard that name before. In fact, Dean looked very familiar himself. "Wait, back up. You just said you spoke to my office to get the address, so they must exist." She sank onto her couch. "What the hell is going on?"

"Dunno, that's why I'm calling in reinforcements," Dean pulled out his phone, pressed a speed dial and after a few seconds, hung up, annoyed. "No answer," he shrugged.

"This is so bizarre. For the record, I still think you're insane and you're playing some mind trick on my secretary so she can't see you." She opened her bag, pulled out a few notes and handed the money to Dean. "Here, grab a cab. Hope your car gets fixed soon."

Dean stared at her hand as if she was offering him earthworms to eat.

"Look, lady, I'm not a charity case. I'm just really worried about you. You're sitting in an abandoned building in designer clothes and you're claiming that it's your office. You're talking to people that aren't there. Lady, I think you're schizo and you need to go home."

Beck had just about enough from Dean.

"Ok, mister. If you don't leave my office in the next two minutes, I'll get security to escort you out."

"I'm invisible, remember." Dean smirked. "Besides, you're stuck with me until we can figure out what the hell is going on."

"I know exactly what's going on. You're insane. You can't drive. And you're annoying me. Go. Away."

"Not gonna happen," Dean smirked.


	5. Blake Atteberry: Camp Olympus

Blake Atteberry was having no luck in hailing a cab. She sighed as another one zipped past, completely ignoring her. She hated being here, in New York. Her parents told her she was born here, but she hated New York; Blake had always considered herself a city girl, but she didn't realize she'd never actually experienced the city till she came _here._ She had been in Manhattan for three days so far, and could already tell the difference since day one.

Blake was 17, turning 18 in two weeks, with long golden brown hair that had soft waves and held highlights during the summer. She had olive green eyes with that in certain lights looked emerald, and permanently rosy cheeks—with otherwise pale skin. It was drizzling in Manhattan today, and underneath her long black overcoat was her usual tomboy-ish attire; she blamed her parents for this. After all, they named her _Blake, _a _boy's _name.

This, coming to New York for the summer before she went off to college, was her "birthday present". _Some present._ They were making her go to a lame day camp instead of letting her sightsee with them. First off, how in the _world _could there be a camp _in the city, on an island_? Secondly, she was turning _18_. She was _way _too old for day camp; she should be a _counselor. _Plus, the camp had the most _stupid _name ever: Camp Olympus. _So _childish. She overheard her parents talking about the camp, and supposed it was some sort of reform for her; she had started a riot her last day of Senior year, pulled a prank on the evil teacher Mr. Ass-Wipe (aka Mr. White), and got arrested. So bad girl camp it was. She still could have refused, after all, she was almost an adult, but the _only_ reason she agreed to go was because her parents promised she could go to acting classes and auditions at night. The acting was the one thing she _loved _about New York.

Blake had auditioned last night, her second night here, for a play titled _John Lennon & Me_. She fell in love with the script and could relate to the main character, Star, who loved The Beatles. And so she auditioned for Star last night, on her second day here. The play wasn't going on Broadway or anything, just a local live theatre, but still. The cast list was to be posted on the door of the theatre tonight, and Blake could hardly contain her mixture of nervousness and excitement. She wished night would hurry and come.

But it wasn't even time for camp to start yet—it was so early—so Blake decided to take a detour to the Empire State Building. She obviously had no time during the day, and nights were filled too, so there was no other time to actually be a tourist. But the stupid taxis would _not _stop for her. She was almost tempted to run out in front of a dang cab, even if it meant risking her life. Then again, that would mean not being forced to go to camp…

When she saw the next taxi speeding toward her she stepped on the curb, narrowly missing a puddle, and waved her arm in the street so the driver was certain to stop. "Dude!" she yelled, although she knew it was a pointless effort due to the sounds of the city all around. Nonetheless, a cab finally stopped for her, and she gladly got in out of the drizzle.

"Where to?" the driver asked, looking at her through the rearview mirror. She only saw his eyes.

"The Empire State Building," Blake replied, leaning back into the seat. She pulled out her camera phone and took pictures as buildings and sights blurred past the rain speckled window; this was the only way she got to sightsee, through blurring windows.

**15 Minutes Later…**

Blake was going to be late to camp—God forbid—if this tour did not end _now_. Not that Blake cared, but her parents swore that if she was late to camp no acting…

She snuck away from the tour and made her way to the elevator. She pressed the down button and impatiently tapped her foot as it lit up and she waited for it to arrive. When it finally opened, she stepped in.

There was a guy already in the elevator that looked around her age. He had piercing blue eyes that reminded Blake of the sea, the absolute smoothest skin she'd ever seen, and straight jet-black hair that fell just above his eyes. He was wearing blue, all different shades. "Up or down?" he asked Blake. She couldn't shake the fact that he looked vaguely familiar…

"Down," she replied, glancing away. "First floor."

They stood in silence all the way down, not looking at each other. When it reached the bottom floor Blake stepped out, but the guy stayed in the elevator. She walked across the floor and glanced back as the doors of the elevator slowly closed in front of his figure.

**30 Minutes Later…**

Blake stood in a line with the rest of the day-campers forced to be at Camp Olympus. She sighed and rolled her eyes as someone droned on about procedures and activities. They got new counselors depending on what they were doing that day. They made the campers wear these tacky bright yellow t-shirts that said CAMP OLYMPUS in green letters and had a picture of a grey mountain. And the camp had _nothing _to do with Greek Mythology, _or _a mountain called Olympus, or _anything _like that.

The girl next to Blake had her face buried in a book. The book said _Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief _on the spine and had a guy on the front that had water splashing out all around him. He was wearing all blue, had straight, jet-black hair that touched just above his eyes, and some of the smoothest skin Blake had ever seen. This must be Percy Jackson. Blake now recalled seeing commercials of the movie version of this book. She couldn't stop staring at the cover…

A whistle blew. "Welcome campers! I will be your counselor for today's water activities. If you didn't bring a swimsuit, don't worry."

Blake glanced up, and then did a double take.

It was the guy from the elevator. But it was also the guy on the cover of her neighbor's book. It was Percy Jackson.


End file.
